The Strangest Feeling
by Jay'sWings
Summary: After the events of the Great Game, Sherlock can't stop thinking about one person...Molly Hooper. He hopes to go to her house to find the reason for his dilemma...but he encounters something else that he never thought he would feel for anyone. Sherlock/Molly


Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock! Sherlock is owned by the BBC and all other rightful and respected owners! Enjoy!

The Strangest Feeling

"I hope I'm not bothering you Molly," I spoke, truly meaning every word. I was standing on the front stoop of her flat, probably looking like a desperate lover to the common passerby. My hair wasn't well groomed at all, and my clothing was even disheveled. Meanwhile Molly had on an expensive dress, red with gold highlights, and her hair had been curled and sprayed. Even though the curls had loosened and the dress had wrinkles, indicating she'd been looking like this for hours, Molly Hooper still looked better than she usually did.

Molly Hooper. My dilemma for the past several hours. Even dealing with Moriarty hadn't been this stressful. But I suppose, the Moriarty incident was the cause of all this. Whatever the reason, after John and I had left from that cursed pool, it wasn't Moriarty that I had been able to focus on. Or John. Or my own questions.

It was Molly. Molly, of all people to be entering my thoughts and sending me off course. When John and I had gone back to our flat, I sat on the couch aimlessly for two hours, trying to get my mind off anything but that woman. But every time I started to stop thinking about Molly, she would reenter my subconscious with renewed force. So here I was, on her stoop, hoping that my dilemma was just guilt for her part in this unfortunate situation of Jim, her boyfriend, targeting John and me.

"No, of course n-not Sherlock," Molly stuttered. I looked again to see that her eyes, beneath the eye shadow and mascara she had uncharacteristically put on, were red and puffy. She had been crying. Without warning, my body tensed, and the strange sensation of hate filled me. Not hate for Molly, but pure hatred for the thing that was making her cry. It was the weirdest feeling.

"May I come in?" I asked, trying to keep a polite tone as to not upset Molly any further.

"I don't know Sherlock, it's rather late," Molly glanced at the diamond watch on her wrist and then looked away wistfully. Obviously it was a gift from Jim, and she was ashamed of herself for still wearing it.

"John told you about Jim, I presume?" I asked. At this, Molly sighed quietly and walked inside, motioning me to follow. Stepping inside her flat, I closed the door and waited to see if my thoughts were finally calm. Seeing Molly seemed to have set my mind at ease, but there was still something...off? This whole night had been puzzling indeed.

"John called me after you two got back to your flat," Molly explained, grabbing a tissue box and wiping at her eyes. She managed to smudge her mascara off to the side on her right eye, but I didn't say anything and allowed her to finish.

"I thought Jim had just left me," Molly's voice was going higher, indicating an obvious sense of pain she felt. "I didn't realize he abandoned our date tonight so that he could kill you two."

Ah, so that's what it was. A sense of relief filled me when it all came together. The dress was for the date, and that was why Molly was so stricken, because this apparent romantic night had been ruined. Yet, with my relief at understanding the situation, that feeling of hatred came back. Molly looked so sad again, and my heart pounded at the thought of someone standing her up.

What was happening to me?

"I came by just to check up on you. Since you and Jim were in a relationship (why were those words so hard to say?) you could be a prime target," the words were forced, and I could tell that even Molly wasn't buying them. But it didn't make sense. I knew that _should_ be the reason I came here, but I also knew that that _wasn't_ the reason I came.

"Thank you," Molly smiled at me, and for some reason, I smiled back. Not even a socially adequate, tight lipped smile, but my lips stretched back so my teeth were even showing. At this, Molly showed a bit of surprise on her face, which I was sure was mirroring my own surprise.

"I really must be going," I finally said, after what seemed like an eternity of silence. Whatever was happening to me was happening fast. My mind was completely off track now. All I could think about was Molly; her eyes, her dress, her lips...

"Are you sure, I could m-make tea?" Molly motioned to her kitchen, and like a stupid stray puppy, I nodded my head and walked right past her to her kitchen, not willing to let her change her mind. I could hear her footfalls behind me, hesitant but consistent nonetheless. So much for leaving.

When I got to the kitchen, I took a seat and watched as Molly got out the bags and started to make us tea.

*Why can't I look away from her?* I thought to myself. My eyes were glued to Molly as she walked around. It was confounding. I had never before seen anything or anyone with such clarity. Everything next Molly seemed blurry and grey. I rubbed my eyes, it must have been the sleep deprivation and the adrenaline from my meeting with Moriarty. That _had_ to be it.

"I'm going to go change," Molly's statement shook me from my thoughts. As she went to pass by me, my body seemed to have a mind of its own as I stood up abruptly and grabbed her arm, pulling her close to me. By God, what on _Earth_ was I _doing_?

"Don't change, you...look...pretty," I stuttered, my heart pounding. I must have been in more shock than I thought.

At my plea, and to my despair, Molly started to tear up. She smiled and looked me in the eye, effectively freezing me in place. I couldn't move. And as I looked at Molly Hooper, I realized I didn't want to.

"S-Sherlock," she stuttered. "That's sweet of you to say, but you don't have to do this. I...I know you don't enjoy doing this sort of thing."

Did she truly mean that? I felt a pang of confusion as Molly's statement didn't make me feel relieved as it should of, but empty. When I tried to say thank you and let go of her, my grip only tightened and out came,

"I don't enjoy this sort of thing...with most people."

At this, everything seemed to still, and the only thing I could focus on was Molly and my heart, pounding away at a higher decibel than humanly possible. I shifted as Molly moved closer to me, allowing her to put her hand on my chest. Without thinking, I moved closer to her, until we were only a few inches apart.

Until our lips were only a few inches apart.

At this closeness, I could fully see Molly's face. And again came the anger, the hatred as I saw her face was still moist, indicating that she had been recently crying. Curse Moriarty for making Molly, sweet beautiful Molly, endure so much pain. All I wanted was for Molly to be happy again. I wanted things to be normal again.

But as everything went from being completely still to a blur, I realized that half of that wasn't true. I didn't want things to return to the way they were. I wanted this, whatever this was.

I wanted Molly.

"S-Sherlock," Molly looked up at me, hope beginning to make its way into her eyes. And at that moment, I felt the most confused and passionate I had ever felt in my life. The single thought of making her happy pounded through my mind.

"Molly," I breathed, cutting the name short as I moved in closer and pressed my lips against those of an angel.

Against those of Molly Hooper.

* * *

Well this is my first Sherlock story...and my first romance story! I hope you guys like it, I'm tempted to add another chapter that would be...ya know...Sherlock...Molly...Sherlolly...doing things...naughty things... ;D Let me know what you think or if this is just better a oneshot! Thanks again!


End file.
